


His Own Blood

by Coffeebles



Category: Markiplier Egos, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Gen, blame julia for this, wilford's perception of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 06:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13184385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffeebles/pseuds/Coffeebles
Summary: The egos lost one of their own that day. After past trauma, though, Wilford can’t understand that his dear friend is gone forever. Dark’s patience has run thin.





	His Own Blood

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings: death, blood, guns

It all happened in the blur of a moment. Somebody was threatening Yandere’s Senpai. Yandere tried to fight back. They used self defense. Before Yandere could realizing what was happening, there was blood on his hands, but for once it wasn’t someone else’s; it was his own.

Dr. Iplier was hovering over the boy as he lied on the bed in the doctor’s room. All of the other egos were crowded around, holding their breath and twiddling their thumbs. The doctor was trying desperately to cover the wounds and keep him breathing. It was all in vein, though. Light drained from Yandere’s eyes as his chest fell. Dr. Iplier’s eyes went wide. He checked for a pulse. As his face fell, everyone knew what had happened. Even after two tries with the defibrillator, Yandere did not move. Silence fell over the room before the doctor took off his surgical mask. His expression was grim.

“Nothing,” he said. “No heartbeat, no breathing.” His throat was becoming tight. “He’s gone.”

Both of the Jims had already burst into tears. They held each other close as their sobs echoed through the room.

“He was protective and caring, and an honorary Jim,” Reporter Jim said, burying his face into his brother’s shoulder.

Bing and Google couldn’t cry, but Bing wished he could. It was the only way he would be able to show the tightness in his chest.

“Is he really gone?” Bing whispered.

Google nodded, his gaze focused on the ground. “I can’t detect any signs of life from him.”

Bing forced himself to take a shaky breath. Thick oxygen filled his air tanks, suffocating his system. Some of the egos were crying, while others mourned in silence. He had never been in a room so cold and heavy. The atmosphere was too thick to cut.

That is, until Wilford came in. He was wearing a bright smile, and had his gun holstered. Drops of blood stained his yellow shirtsleeves. There was a bounce in each step as he walked into the doctor’s office. Everyone else’s tear-filled eyes stared at him, drilling into his soul. He was not phased by this.

“What’s up, ones? A ten has entered the room,” Wilford said. As he stopped in his tracks, he noticed their dark expressions, and quirked an eyebrow. “What, did I miss something?”

That was when he saw Yandere’s body. The poor boy had been shot in the stomach. Blood leaked through his dress. Though Dr. Iplier had wrapped bandages over the wound, it had done little to help. His body was limp, and the doctor had shut his eyes with the gentle brush of a hand. He looked calm, and at ease; as if he was in a deep sleep. 

Wilford was used to seeing blood on Yandere’s dress. He paid little attention to that. His nose scrunched up. “Did Yan get sleepy and pass out in your room, Doc?”

“Are you serious?” Bim said. His face twisted up in disgust. “You’re making jokes at a time like this?”

“What? I’m not joking.” Wilford put his hands on his hips. 

“He got shot, Wilford,” Dr. Iplier said, his voice cracking. 

“He’ll get up! He’s a strong boy,” Wilford said. He walked towards the bedside, and ruffled Yandere’s faded red hair. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Why is everyone crying?”

“He’s dead, Wilford.” A voice cut through the room, commanding silence. Everyone’s heads turned towards the doorway to see Dark standing there. His expression was firm, with a hint of something else nobody could read. “We have to bury him.”

Wilford’s hands curled into fists. “So? It’s not like he’s never coming back. Just be patient.”

“That is precisely what that means,” Google said. 

“For God’s sake, Wilford, have some goddamn respect for once, will you?” Dr. Iplier rose to his feet, his voice growing louder. 

Dark cleared his throat. “Wil, can I have a word with you in my office, please?” He glanced around at the rest of the egos. “Start preparing a grave. We’ll host a short ceremony first.”

Everyone got to work, their faces grim and stained with tears. Dr. Iplier put Yandere’s body in a body bag for safe keeping. Bing and Google searched how to hold a funeral and make a tombstone. Bim and the Jims looked for a box to use as a coffin. Dark grabbed Wilford’s wrist, and dragged Wil back to his office. Once they were both inside, Dark closed the door with the wave of his hand.

“Sit down,” he said, and motioned to the chair in the room. 

Wilford obliged. Dark heaved a sigh, rubbing his temples. 

“Wilford,” he said, “what am I going to do with you?” 

“I just don’t see why everyone is being so dramatic,” Wilford said, crossing his arms. “It’s just a flesh wound, that’s all.”

“You love Yandere, don’t you?”

The question threw Wilford off guard. He nodded. “Why, of course. He’s like the son I never had.”

“Then act like it.” 

Their faces were inches apart now. Wilford could feel Dark breathe--sharp and heavy. There was a moment of tense silence before Dark closed his eyes.

“I know you don’t quite understand it,” he said, “but Yandere is dead.” His eyes opened to see Wilford’s shining with tears and confusion. “He was just a kid. When people get wounded like that, especially someone young and small like him, they can’t just get up afterwards. It’s like going to sleep and never waking up.”

“Well, the district attorney got up after I shot ‘em!” Wilford tried to stand up, but Dark pushed him back into the chair.

“You idiot,” Dark said, his shell beginning to crack. “That was one time. Miracles like that never happen in the real world. Yandere’s  _ not _ waking up. How can you not get that through your thick skull?”

Then Wilford saw something he never thought he would see.

He saw Dark cry. 

Dark’s sobs were gentle and soft. He buried his face into his hand, his other arm crossing his torso. Wilford saw one tear slip by, and stain his suit. When Wilford tried to reach out to hug him, Dark flinched away. 

“Pathetic, huh?” Dark asked, his voice quiet and cracking with tears. “I’m not supposed to be crying. I’m supposed to be the cold as stone head-of-the-table, the bad guy.”

Though Wilford had yet to understand the situation, seeing Dark cry made him uneasy. When Dark cried, his aura wasn’t big or scary. Instead, it was contained, making him look small.

Wilford pursed his lips. “I never killed anybody,” he whispered, “so Yandere can’t be dead. He can’t be dead, Dark.”

Dark looked up, glaring knives at Wilford. “I’m going to help prepare the funeral,” he said, wiping the moisture away from his face. “Come join us when you get your head out of your ass.”

Before Wilford could speak, Dark was gone, leaving the pink man alone in the office.

-

It was three hours. They held a small funeral, each of the egos giving kind words about Yandere and the time they had spent with him. Then, they buried him in the backyard, and made a tombstone out of one of the stepping stones. Everyone stood in silence for a few minutes before returning to the manor. 

Wilford did not come out until after. There was a single rose in his hand from the vase on the dining room table. By then, the sun was setting--however, storm clouds covered the sky. Thunder shook the atmosphere, causing Wilford to flinch. His fear of thunder was not his main focus, though. His focus was the stone sticking out of the ground. He sat on his knees before it. It said, “Rest in Peace Yandere”, and the date. 

The soft ground underneath Wilford implied that Yandere had already been buried. He could never get up now. Is this how it had been for everyone Wilford had shot? Were they buried, and did people surround their graves with tears streaming down their faces?

There was a distant memory in the back of his head. Him, and a familiar face, standing in front of two gray tombstones. The names engraved had the same last name he once did. The familiar face asked Wil how they died. Wilford couldn’t remember the answer. He remembered hugging the familiar face, though. He remembered how warm they were in the dead of winter. They said they would always be there for him. Where were they now?

Then, he thought of Yandere. He thought of when Yandere was still a small kid. He thought of teaching Yandere how to shoot a gun. He thought of watching him and Bing play video games in the common room. He thought of how wide Yandere smiled whenever talking about his Senpai. He thought of helping Yandere remove blood stains from his dress. He thought of how a few hours ago, he had seen Yandere with a bullet wound and his eyes shut, and how that was the last time Wilford would ever see him. 

Before Wil knew it, he was crying. He clenched the rose in a fist, and hugged the tombstone. 

“I’m sorry, Yandere,” he said, his shoulders heaving with heavy sobs. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. I’m sorry I couldn’t teach you well enough to defend yourself. I,”--He took in a sharp breath, only to scream out in agony and cry harder--”I’m so sorry you’re gone!”

Dark watched from the back door as Wilford wailed and sobbed. Bing saw him, and stopped in his tracks to observe. There was silence.

“Do you think he understands?” Bing asked.

“Maybe,” Dark said. “For now, I think he needs space.”

Bing nodded. “They’re done packing Yandere’s room.”

“Take it all to the attic,” Dark said, still staring at Wilford. It had been forever since he had seen the man this fragile. 

“Um, Dark?” Bing pulled at the collar of his shirt. “What comes after this? Are we gonna be okay? Right now, everything seems so grim and hopeless.”

Dark glanced back at Bing before returning his gaze to the grave. He took a deep breath. “We’ll be just fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> i almost started crying while writing this oops


End file.
